“Seeking the stillness within, Mr.—”
David pulled him up with his good arm and practically threw him against the mountain. “Seek it at the top of the mountain.” David pointed, and when Milo turned back, David spun the youth around and pushed him toward the mountain again. “You climb and keep climbing, Milo, no matter what happens. Go. I mean it.”
Milo reluctantly dug a hand into a jagged opening in the mountain, and David watched for a second as he moved up the wall of rock.
David returned his focus to the observation deck. He walked to the edge of the deck and waited. Then it came — a break in the smoke. He knelt and peered through the scope and without a single adjustment, he saw the drone. No, it was a different drone; this one still had its full complement of two rockets. How many were there? David didn’t hesitate this time. He sucked a breath in, held it, and squeezed the trigger slowly. The drone exploded and a tiny stream of smoke streaked the sky as the drone fell to the ground.
David searched the sky for the other drone, but he couldn’t see it. It must be on the other side. He rose to his feet and hobbled across the wooden platform. Through the smoke, a colorful form rose, a scene of sky and trees, parting the black clouds. The balloon. Kate. His eyes met hers just as the mountain exploded below him. Half the platform disappeared in an instant, throwing him off balance. The gun fell from David’s hands and clanged loudly on the rocks as it fell toward the burning monastery. He crawled to the other side of the platform as the boards crumbled and broke free one-by-one. The entire monastery was coming down. The other drone had fired its last missile, and it was a death blow.
The balloon had been rocked, but it was still there, 15 or 20 feet away, swaying wildly. The last of the platform was collapsing quickly now.
David got to his feet and jumped for it. As he cleared the monastery, his forward motion stopped, and he seemed to hang in the air, and just as quickly, he was falling. Kate reached for him, and he could almost touch her hand, but he missed it, and he plunged to the ground. He almost hit the bottom of the basket, but he twisted at the last minute, catching something — a rope — with his good arm. He had stopped falling, but he swung listlessly from side to side. He tried to grab the rope with his legs, but the pain from the wound was too much. He dangled there, hanging by one hand, his legs kicking back and forth as if he were running in the sky.
Fire — below him. He felt the heat creeping up his legs and now his body, getting closer every second. He was dragging the balloon down into the carnage. Kate was above him, trying to pull the rope up, but she couldn’t — his weight plus the sandbag was too much. He had to let go. From this height, it would be a quick death.
Kate disappeared from the edge of the basket, and David heard a whoosh as a sand bag fell to the ground. Their descent stabilized, but they were still drifting lower, into the flames. He was sweating now. The balloon’s material wouldn’t last long in this heat.
“Kate, I can’t climb!” Even through the pain pill, the agony of the chest and shoulder wound were overtaking him. He closed his eyes. Let go, his mind said, and as soon as words formed in his mind, something smacked him in the face — literally. He snapped his eyes open to find a rope — without a sandbag — dangling in his face.
“Grab it,” Kate yelled down to him.
He quickly moved his single-hand grip from the rope holding the sandbag to the new rope. He lost three or four feet in the exchange, but Kate quickly made it up as she began pulling him up toward the basket. David was 6’1”, around 180 pounds. He couldn’t understand how she was doing it, where the strength had come from, but Kate kept putting one hand over the other, pulling, using the side of the basket as a pulley. After what seemed like an eternity, he was eye-level with the top of the basket, and he lunged, grabbing it with his good arm and thrusting himself into the basket, falling on top of her.
She was drenched in sweat from the exertion, and he was dripping from the heat of the fire. His face was four inches from hers, and he stared into her eyes. He could feel her breathing on his face. He pressed into her, moving closer to her mouth.
Just before he reached her, she grabbed him and rolled him off of her, onto his back.
David closed his eyes. “I’m sorry—”
“No, it’s, I felt it. You’re bleeding, your bandages ripped.” Kate pulled his shirt back and began working on the wound.
David panted and stared up at the clouds on the balloon. He hoped that somewhere below them, Milo was sitting at the top of the mountain, safe, and that someday, somewhere, he would find the stillness within.
PART III:
THE TOMBS OF ATLANTIS
CHAPTER 97